Children of Camelot
by lil cornelius
Summary: It seemed as if it was the root of his existence; as if it was nothing but raw instinct to protect that which made him whole. Perhaps it because it was such a deeply ingrained part of him, more so than it is beyond simple comprehension, that it was possible for it to be passed down. Destinies are indeed curious things.


_Chapter I: The Usual Magical Mishap_

"A flying carpet?"

Ygraine nodded excitedly. "Yes, the Arabic merchant that visited last week told me tales of wish granting spirits trapped in lamps and of magical caves filled with treasures of gold and of-"

"Flying carpets?"

"Flying carpets," Ygraine confirmed as she turned over another page of the spell book.

"Ygraine, uncle Merlin and aunt Mithian don't want you to be up here alone."

"I'm not alone. I'm with you."

Prince Amir sighed. "You know what I mean."

The Court Sorcerer's tower was, to put it simply, the brewing den of many of the castle's strange occurrences. After the warlock's appointment as Court Sorcerer, the King arranged the castle's highest tower to be used by his lanky friend to experiment with magic freely and without worry. His father, as Amir's mother recounted to him for he had not yet been born then, soon discovered that it was not Merlin who needed to worry, but the castle's inhabitants. He recalled Guinevere telling him of when Merlin had tried to procure a potion to reverse Geoffrey's baldness which resulted in half the castle's inhabitants waking up to find that they have grown bald during the night.

Although Amir very much enjoyed hearing humorous stories of his father and uncle that transpired before his time, he looked eagerly forward to the days when he could live these magical mishaps himself. He always recalls with a chuckle that night two years ago when Merlin had been working on an intricate teleportation spell. His uncle had retired to bed frustrated after his numerous unsuccessful attempts. Although the warlock did not manage to teleport himself, he succeeded in teleporting the king and queen's bed to the middle of the courtyard. None of the guards that had been standing watch over night dared arouse the king from his sleep out of fear of facing what was sure to be an outraged Pendragon. As daylight morning came, one incensed king and one amused queen woke up to find themselves in the courtyard surrounded by onlooking servants and hysterical knights. He remembers standing along with Ygraine, who had only been five years of age at the time, and the Knights of the Round Table, watching as his father marched into the castle. He returned a moment later dragging a half asleep Merlin by the ear followed closely by a worried Mithian.

When word spreads out that the warlock has been up in his tower for a few days on end, everyone knows that something is bound to happen. Openly, some show their nervousness. Secretly, everyone looks forward for such days. Yet those who are wise enough dare not venture up the tower in said days and for those who are not and enter without knocking, risk being transformed into a duck and, even after being turned into their normal selves, spending a good portion of the day quacking involuntarily. Sir Gwaine could vouch for that last one. To this day, the feathered animals still made the knight uneasy.

Now it was her turn to sigh. "Amir," she said. "Who else in all of Albion has a magical flying carpet? Hm?" She pressed her lips together and turned her head to the side in a gesture so alike Merlin's, waiting for his answer.

He knew her argument was convincing, but he was most certainly not going to agree vocally. Instead, he settled for rolling his eyes. A different approach then. "Father will be cross with me for letting you stay here."

Ygraine shrugged blithely. "I'll tell him that I didn't listen to you. Uncle Arthur is never crossed with me."

Unfairly true.

Amir thinks sometimes that because Ygraine is a small replica of his uncle Merlin, his father is unable to be anything but loving and gentle with the little warlock. Her raven black hair, her cerulean eyes, her pale completion, and her wide grin were those of her father's. Unlike Ygraine, Amir was a combination of both his father and mother. His skin was slightly more colored than his father's and his hair a mix brown and light streaks, but it was his cerulean eyes that were that of his father. Also like his father, Amir apparently had an affinity towards trouble inducing warlocks.

"Aha!" Ygraine exclaimed, clapping her hands together in excitement and drawing Amir's attention to the book she was leaning over on the wooden table. "Found it."

"Found what?" Amir asked, rounding the table and standing behind the wooden bench the girl stood upon. Peering over the girl's shoulder and seeing the source of her excitement, he decided that he did not quite share the sentiment.

"' _Fleoge hraegl'_," Amir read the large, cursive words slowly; the words of the Old Religion feeling heavy upon his tongue. His attention shifted to the smaller words bellow. _"'Flying spell'._ Ygraine, I don't think you-

Ygraine sighed exasperatedly. "It is not a flying carpet if it does not fly, Amir."

"That is not the point," he said, now irritated. He, however, went ignored by the other who had hopped off the bench and was now making her way to a rolled material of what seemed to be a carpet that he had not noticed before, but that he did not tardy in recognizing.

"That's my carpet."

Ygraine simply looked at him and then down at the carpet before looking at him again. "Yes," was her reply.

"Why did you pick my carpet?"

She regarded him in that irritatingly innocent way of hers that suggested that he was the one that was acting unfittingly. "It's a nice carpet."

"There are a lot of nice carpets in many of the castle's rooms including yours."

"You should be happy that I picked your carpet." This was stated with the indignation of someone who had done a generous deed that had gone unappreciated.

"Well, I'm not."

"Oh, don't get your royal trousers in a twist, Amir."

The prince did a double take at that which went unnoticed by the other who was occupied unrolling the carpet on the available space in front of the large window. It finally dawned him as he watched her open the glass window and sit down on the carpet that what Ygraine was attempting did not frighten nor did it unnerved her in the slightest; that she was truly willing to go through with this.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Well, what are you waiting for? A royal invitation? Get on."

The prince eyed the carpet with unconcealed uncertainty. "Are you completely and utterly certain that you can control it?"

"You're lack of trust completely and utterly wounds me." She then sighed. "Amir, I'm doing this with you or without you, but honestly I would rather not do it alone."

After one more moment of hesitation, Amir relented. He did not know why he wasted his time refusing to do something Ygraine was set on him doing for he always went along with it in the end. His shoulders dropped as all fight left him and Ygraine quickly knew that he would indulge her in another one of her whims.

Once Amir reluctantly settled himself behind her on the carpet, she brightly said, "Now that that is finally settled, let's get on with this, shall we?"

"Mm," was the reply she received.

"I know. I'm excited too. Now, what was the-? Oh yes." She extended her hands with her palms downwards towards the carpet. Her eyes burned gold, captivating Amir, who had leaned sideways in order to witness the little warlock's magic, as it always did. _"Fleoge hraegl."_ Ygraine chanted and it would have been impressive, of course, if the carpet had indeed flown as was her intention.

"Did you pronounce the words correctly?" Amir asked.

Ygraine huffed in annoyance. "Yes, Amir. I pronounced them correctly." She stood and half walked, half stomped her way to the table. She picked up the spell book and brought it unnecessarily close to her face. "_'Fleoge hraegl'_. See? I pronounced it perfectly. I don't understand why it did not work. Maybe something is wrong with the book."

"Yeah," the prince scoffed. "That's it."

Ygraine glared at him before returning her attention back to the spell. "Maybe there is another spell I can use," she said, flipping through the old pages.

Amir rested his chin on the palm of his hand and watched as the other searched through the book and murmur silently. Just as he was considering standing from the carpet, he found himself to be slowly rising from the floor. His wide eyes took in the carpet that had just elevated about a foot off the stone floor. A sense of foreboding began to overtake him, the same feeling that he would always get when one of Ygraine's magical experiments was about to slip out of control.

"Um, Ygraine?"

"Hold on, Amir."

The carpet raised itself higher.

"Ygraine"

"Just give me one second."

"Ygraine!"

"What?! Oh…"

Ygraine regarded the opened space before her that Amir and the carpet had previously occupied only a second before. Leaning forward to look out the window, she caught a glimpse of a green shirt growing smaller and smaller in the distance heading towards the direction of the town.

She blinked once. "Huh," she mumbled. "So it did work."

She remained, gawking out the window as the seconds passed her by. Suddenly, she took off towards the door. A moment later, she hurried back into the room to grab the spell book before scurrying off once again, complaining along the way of the prince's tendencies of getting himself into troublesome situations.


End file.
